Novel & Cerita Seven Minutes In Heaven Rules

My fated mate, Alpha Kaelen, rejected me seven times. The first time we bonded, he whispered against my ear, his breath hot. “From now on, my soul sings only for you.” But then his first love, the Omega Seraphina, came back for him. And just like that, he rejected me. They shared a mate’s mark from their past. It left her hopelessly addicted to his scent. “I’m sorry,” he’d said. “I have to be with Seraphina. The scent addiction is destroying her. She can’t even shift. Her wolf is weakening.” The first time he rejected me, I slashed a silver dagger across my wrist. I let the blood flow, hoping the pain would make him look at me. It worked. Kaelen was horrified. He left Seraphina for a moment and rushed to my side, holding me, comforting me. The third time, I disguised myself as an ordinary pack wolf. I got an internship at his pack headquarters, just to breathe in the air he breathed. But this time, he looked right through me, as if we were strangers. By the sixth rejection, I had learned how to calmly erase my scent from his suite. I left without a sound. My screams. My surrender. My begging. And what I got in return? Every time he was with her, the full moon would rise, and he’d call me back. Just to play the same sick game all over again. Until now. I heard Seraphina was coming back again. So I handed him the ceremonial dagger myself. He set the date for my return, just like always. He had no idea. This time, I'm the one severing the bond for good. And I am never coming back.

After I confessed to my childhood crush, he smirked and said, "If you can get that loser to drink from the same bottle you did, I'll date you." Seriously? Was I really reborn fifteen years ago? I raced over to Noah—top of the class and hot as hell—and dropped the water bottle on his desk in front of everyone. He clocked the lipstick stain, face turning crimson. Future business mogul? Right now, he looked like some poor kid waiting to get crushed. I nudged the bottle closer. "Using that genius brain to collect bottles for cash? Kinda tragic. Be my private tutor instead." He might be broke, but lucky for him, I've got money to burn.

Within 30 days, Niccolò Romano and I registered for divorce 18 times. The first time, Niccolò's adopted sister stole my research results, but he hired a lawyer to fight for her. Afterwards, he held me and coaxed, "If something happens to Lia, no one will dare to hire her in the future. I'm just helping her." The second time, while my plane was in distress, he was traveling around the world with Lia. His tone was helpless: "Lia has depended on me since she was little. I only look after her like a younger sister." The last time, Lia was pregnant with a child no one would claim, and he took responsibility for it. Faced with my accusation, he just sighed, a bit tired: "Lia's career is just starting to take off. If someone blackmails her with the child, her life will be ruined." "You're a woman too. Can't you understand?" This time, I didn't cry or make a scene. Instead, I calmly signed my name on the divorce agreement that he had signed in a fit of pique some time ago. Then I called my professor: "I've thought it over. I'm willing to go with you to Iceland to do research."

The seventh time Claire Fisher bailed on our marriage license appointment, I finally cut her out of my life—for good. From then on, if she was at a party, I wasn't. When she was scheduled to perform at our college's anniversary celebration, I made sure to leave early. The moment my company announced a collaboration with hers, I resigned without a second thought. Even on Christmas Eve, when she showed up at my parents' house with gifts, I slipped out with a half-hearted excuse about "visiting a friend." I blocked her number. Deleted her from my contacts. Burned every bridge and salted the earth behind me. No calls. No texts. No social media. I didn't reach out. She couldn't reach me. Simple as that. For the better part of my life, I was hopelessly in love with her—waiting on her, caring for her, putting her first in every way that mattered. I gave her all of me without ever holding back. But after the seventh time she left me sitting alone at the City Hall, something inside me broke. I was done. If that meant spending the rest of my life alone, so be it. Better that than sitting in an empty apartment, listening to the silence, holding on to hope for someone who never planned to show up.

"I didn’t know I was marrying two people. He wore the suit, but she pulled the strings. The day I walked down the aisle, eyes locked with the man I loved, I thought I had found peace. I thought I was finally leaving behind the noise of my childhood, the ache of loneliness, and the years I spent praying for a love that would choose me, only me. But no one told me that some men never truly leave their mothers. They marry, yes,but their hearts remain tangled in an invisible umbilical cord, one that stretches past vows, past bedrooms, past boundaries. I moved into our new home, only to find that the walls had ears, hers. We lived in separate flats, but it never truly felt like my space. My marriage was a room she walked into, uninvited but ever present. Her opinions dripped into our arguments, her eyes followed me from behind lace curtains, and her voice echoed in decisions that should have belonged to me and my husband. At first, I kept quiet. I told myself it was cultural. Respect. Family. Then I told myself it was temporary. Then I stopped telling myself anything at all, because nothing I said made a difference. This is not a story of hate. It’s a story of love, tested by bloodlines, boundaries, and a battle I never asked to fight. This is my truth. The marriage I thought was mine. The home that never really felt like home. And the rules I never agreed to, but had to live by, simply because… I was under her roof".

Seven years ago, I signed a mate contract as Luna. For my mother’s dying wish and for the Pack’s stability, I personally pushed a man with nothing to his name onto the Alpha throne. I held the Pack together for him, expanded our businesses, and handled the filthy negotiations and the deals no one wanted to see in the light. Everyone said— I was calm, I was formidable, I was qualified. Just… not much like a “gentle mate.” Until that day. I stood in the bedroom and watched my Alpha husband lay his hand over my paralyzed stepsister’s slightly rounded belly. They told me it was for the greater good of the Pack. That child would be registered under my name. He would call me Mother. I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I just waited for the seven-year term to hit its end and activated the trust clause my mother left behind. Accounts frozen. Capital withdrawn. The wolf empire I built with my own hands collapsed overnight. By the time he knelt in the ruins and finally understood what he’d lost— I had already taken back my mother’s last name, dissolved the mate bond, and stepped onto a new territory.

Humanity died, and she was the last of them. Zarah Winters was on the verge of death after killing the sixth prince of hell. The seventh prince, a cunning and deceitful individual, did not want her to die because it would deprive him of his source of entertainment — her. Verphegor, as the demon introduced himself, offered her a deal. He would send her back to the past, where she could keep all her memories of this time and use them to change the future. Zarah comes from a line of hunters. Hunters have a variety of abilities that aid them in combating demons. Zarah had no idea she had a talent in her past, which caused her to drop out of the academy. During the apocalypse, however, she discovers that she is a siphon, a person who steals the strength and abilities of demons in exchange for killing them. With that kind of power laying dormant and with growing potential, she agreed to gamble on the demon’s offer. But with Verphegor being a prince of Hell, can she really trust the prince? Moreover, upon learning of her powers at an early stage, can she use them for humanity’s advantage?

Seven years ago, I ignored my girlfriend's heart-wrenching pleas and ruthlessly severed our relationship. Now, after seven long years, she had risen to the top—and she was back, ready for her wedding. She didn't come home for mere celebration, though. She came for revenge. She obliterated the company my father had spent his entire life building and did not stop until she shattered his leg, forcing him to endure unimaginable pain. It was all so I'd be forced to go to her wedding and beg for forgiveness. But that wasn't enough. She wanted more. She hissed, brandishing a blade, "If Matthew's not here in ten minutes, I'll slice off a finger for every minute he's late." My autistic brother's fingers, the only way he could create art, became a bargaining chip in her sadistic game. Dad's anguished cries filled the air as he pleaded for mercy, but she was not done. She wanted to tear my family apart piece by piece. My mom, fragile and trapped in the haze of Alzheimer's, was next. Her mind, already slipping, crumbled under the relentless torment. She cracked, completely lost to the madness. With tears streaming down his face, Dad said, "My son died the day you left for abroad."

When my husband, Lucius Croft, and I were on a flight that was heading toward our honeymoon destination, his childhood friend, Belinda Todd, suddenly appeared before us while pregnant. She claimed that she had bought an economy-class ticket and that she wanted to go on a vacation with us. Not only did Lucius not reject Belinda, but he also wanted me to give my first-class ticket away to her. I turned his suggestion down. So, he helped Belinda occupy the first-class seat next to us. When I realized that an old lady was the owner of that particular seat, I did everything I could to convince Lucius to return the seat to her. Unexpectedly, Belinda was so mad that she got off the plane right away. On her way home, she got into an accident, which killed her and her unborn baby. Lucius attended her funeral calmly. But on the day I was supposed to go into labor, he tied me up in the car and staged a car accident on purpose. "This is all your fault! If it wasn't for you, Belinda never would've died! You deserve to make it up to her with your life!" I could only watch the car drive into the tree in total despair. All I saw was a huge explosion and tongues of flame around me before I completely lost consciousness. When I open my eyes again, I see Belinda standing before me with her belly jutting out. This time, I no longer stop them. What they don't know is that the inconspicuous-looking old lady is actually a member of the esteemed Howard family, also known as the global business powerhouse. She's also the grandmother of the richest man in the world, Ethan Howard.

Meera was born wrong. A wolfless omega in a world ruled by powerful Alphas, she learned early that survival meant staying invisible… staying quiet… staying beneath everyone. But the day she steps onto the ice, everything changes. Because the seven most dangerous players on campus—the Alpha hockey kings—finally notice her. And they don’t like what they see. To them, she’s weak. A joke. Something to break for their amusement. They humiliate her. Push her. Test how far she can fall. But what starts as cruelty quickly turns into something far more dangerous. Obsession. Because the more they try to destroy her… the more they realize they can’t let her go. And when the truth about Meera begins to surface—when her hidden power threatens to flip the entire hierarchy— The same Alphas who bullied her will be the ones fighting to claim her. Too bad she’s no longer the girl who begged to be accepted. Now? They’ll have to beg for her.